A Chocolate Enhanced Mood
by Psyched
Summary: GSR - Companion piece to "An Unscientific Mood."


This story is in response to the second Playing with Fire Fanfic Challenge.  The challenge was inspired by a chat discussion about William Petersen's football jersey, which he manages to wear in some of his movies.  What would it be like if it showed up on CSI, we wondered?   The elements of the challenge include:

1) Sara wears the football jersey (i.e. WP's jersey).

2) Sara discusses the jersey's origins with Grissom.

3) The Geeks consume chocolate sandwiches (see the recipe and picture on the Forum in the G/S Fic Wish List thread).

4) Grissom and/or Sara discuss their favorite position. This could either be their favorite football position (quarterback, defensive back) or their favorite "position" *cough.*

5) Chocolate gets onto either Grissom's or Sara's clothing.

Because I like a little bit of continuity in my life, I decided that this story would be somewhat of a sequel to my last PwF Fanfic Challenge story, "An Unscientific Mood."  You don't have to read that one to understand this one, just know that Sara and Grissom have been dating for a few weeks.  (Of course, if you want to know how they _started dating, AUM answers that question!)_

Thanks to fellow chatter Maddy for the information about higher quality chocolate, and to Margaret for beta-ing.

These characters are still the property of Anthony Zuiker and many other people who are making a profit from them.  I still don't happen to be one of them.  No copyright infringement is intended.  In fact, AZ and company should be pleased, as imitation is the highest form of flattery.

~*~*~

"The only thing worse than a decomp is a decomp in 112 degree heat," Catherine complained.  "I don't think I'm ever going to get the smell of this one off me."

"Lemons."  Sara and Grissom responded in unison.

Catherine shook her head and muttered, "Geeks" as the pair in question tried to keep their amused eye contact to a minimum.  The trio was headed toward the locker room for much needed showers and clean clothes.

Reaching their destination, Sara pushed the door open and stepped in, followed immediately by her companions.  "What the hell?"

"And I thought it was hot outside." Catherine noted.

Nick, coming toward them from his locker, filled them in, "AC's busted.  Warrick's putting in a call to maintenance right now."  Pausing to sniff the air near his peers, he groaned, "Boy, you all are _ripe!"_

"Thanks, Nick." Grissom replied.  "Observant as always."

Sara, in a little better mood than the others because of the lesson learned after her first decomp, asked, "Hey Nick, do me a favor and get the bottle of lemon juice I tucked away under the sink in the staff room?"

"Sure, be right back."

Grissom raised an eyebrow at the woman no one knew he had been dating for three weeks now.  "You have lemon juice?"

She smiled.  "Big bottle, too.  The kind you can only get at a warehouse store.  For such an occasion as this."

"Let me guess.  You were a Girl Scout."  This from Catherine, who was grateful one of them had the foresight to make such a purchase.

"Nah.  I just like to learn from my experiences.  Last decomp I had, I couldn't use the lemons until I got home.  They worked fine, but I still managed to leave an odor of death on my clean clothes, in my car, and in my apartment even after I showered here first."

Reaching their lockers, Catherine cocked her head.  "What's that smell?"

Grissom replied sardonically, "That would be us."

"No, this smells good.  This smells like," she took another whiff, "chocolate."

Sara gasped, "Shit!"  Rushing to her locker and throwing it open, she surveyed the scene and moaned, "Oh no."

"What is it, Sara?"  Grissom, at his own locker now, was blocked from a view of the action by Catherine, who was craning her own neck to see into Sara's storage space.

"I got a delivery just before I left for shift yesterday and I didn't feel like running back into my apartment to drop it off, so I brought it here.  I was afraid it would have melted in my car if I ended up working too long into the day."  There was a distinct whine in her tone as she continued, "It should have been fine here."

"What was in the package, besides chocolate?" Catherine asked, a little confused at seeing her co-worker so upset about some melted candy.

Removing the box and dumping it in a nearby trash can, Sara replied in a frustrated tone, "Only the best chocolate covered pretzels money can buy."

Grissom choked back a laugh as Catherine's jaw dropped.  "You're kidding, right?"

"No," Sara tried, but could not keep the petulance from her voice.  "You don't understand.  My parents go to an annual convention in New York, which is the only place these are sold."  She sighed as she sat on the bench.  "The term 'chocolate covered pretzels' really doesn't do them justice, though.  You know those soft pretzels you can buy from the street vendors?  First they're stuffed with things like caramel or peanut butter, then dipped in homemade chocolate, _then_ covered in nuts, or coconut, or granola."

Grissom, ever the source of rational thinking, offered, "Can't you just order more?"

"I wish.  My parents bought these in New York and sent them to me.  The shop that sells them only does so locally.  No shipments.  I can only get these once a year."  Closing her eyes for few moments, Sara resigned herself to the fact that she would have to wait another year now.  "Oh well.  I'll get over it."

With that, Nick returned, bearing the industrial size bottle of lemon juice and cups so they could share the liquid.  "Hey, why so somber?  Aside from the fact that you all smell like death warmed over, literally."

Catherine groaned to cover her laughter, "Not funny Nicky.  Now get out of here before you start smelling like this, too."

Reaching into her locker for her clean clothes, Sara cursed again, "Damn it!  It melted all over my shirt."

"It's just not your day, is it Sara?  Let me see if I have a spare you can borrow."  Catherine rummaged through her belongings but did not find anything.

"Here," Grissom said, handing her an extra shirt that had been tucked in the back of his locker.

"Oh.  Thanks, Grissom."  Though they had been dating for a few weeks now, Sara had not had occasion to wear Grissom's clothing.  It was a level of intimacy they had yet to achieve, and Sara hoped that the flush she felt creeping up her chest at the thought of smelling him on her wouldn't reach her face before she was safely hidden in the shower.  Maybe Catherine would attribute her red face to the heat, she thought.  Unfolding the garment, Sara realized it wasn't completely white, as she first thought.  Instead, it had yellow and black stripes around the arm at about elbow length and the number 52 in black on the front and back.

"Is that a football jersey?" Catherine asked in shock.

"The deductive abilities of my team never fail to amaze me.  Yes, Catherine, it is a football jersey."  Grissom withheld a sigh.

"I didn't realize you played football."  Catherine was not about to let this go.  In all the years she had known Gil Grissom, she had never seen him wear this shirt.

"I didn't."

"So where'd you get the jersey?  And more importantly, why?"

Cutting Sara a glance that said, _See what I'm willing to put up with for you?  Grissom replied to the stubborn blonde before heading for the showers, "I have no idea, to both of those questions."_

Realizing she was not going to get anymore from the enigma of a man she called her boss and friend, Catherine's only response was, "Uh-hmm."

~*~*~

Sara spent an uneventful morning at home, still somewhat depressed at not having her decadent treat to munch on.  She had called her folks as soon as she arrived home, hoping they had not yet finished their own stash.  But as she had feared, what her parents had not already eaten, they had shared with some of their very fortunate guests.

When her doorbell rang, Sara put down the journal she was reading and crossed the room to look through the peephole.  Pleasantly surprised, she opened the door to Grissom, who held a grocery bag in his arms.  "Hey."  She offered him a quick kiss hello.  "Did we have plans I forgot about?"

"No plans.  And I'm sorry I didn't call first, but I wanted to surprise you."  Placing the bag on her kitchen counter, he turned to take Sara in his arms and give her a proper kiss.

Resting in a hug several long, heated moments later, Sara's curiosity got the better of her.  "You cooking me dinner?"

"Even better, I hope."

Pulling back a bit to look Grissom in the face, Sara smiled at the excitement in his response; he reminded her of a kid on Christmas morning.  "Oh?  You going to let me in on the secret?"

Disengaging from her, Grissom turned and started taking items out of the bag.  "A loaf of bread, mixed nuts, shredded coconut, heavy cream, dark chocolate blocks, and semisweet batons.  You have butter, I hope."  When he had the items lined up on the counter, Grissom looked at Sara expectantly.

"Uh, yeah, I do."  Sara's eyes shifted repeatedly between the food and the man standing before her, obviously waiting for a reaction.  She couldn't quite put the puzzle together, but sensed its significance nonetheless.  "Okay, I give up, what are you making?"

"_We_ are making chocolate sandwiches," he announced triumphantly.

"Chocolate sandwiches?  I've never heard of them."

"Neither had I.  But I went on-line this morning, checking to see if, in fact, your chocolate covered pretzels are available anywhere.  You're right, they're not.  And I couldn't find a recipe for them either.  But I did stumble across literally hundreds of different recipes for chocolate lovers, and I thought this one might fit the bill."

Somewhat in shock, Sara asked, "What bill?"

"Well, I know the combination of salty and sweet of chocolate pretzels is very appealing.  This recipe doesn't originally call for anything beside the chocolate inside the sandwich, but I did see mentions of variations on the theme – adding things like bananas and nuts.  I figured you'd like the nuts."

Sara continued to stare at him, her mouth now slightly open.  A bit nervous at her behavior, Grissom continued to talk, "You mentioned coconut earlier, so I thought we could work that in if we wanted.  I couldn't think of a way to use caramel in a sandwich, though, so I didn't get any."  Stunned to see Sara looking as if she might cry, Grissom panicked, "Sara, honey, what's the matter?"

"You searched on-line for my pretzels?"

He nodded slowly.  Was she mad he doubted her word that they couldn't be found anywhere but one lousy little town in New York?

"And when you couldn't find them you decided to look for something else that I might like?"

"That's right."  _Did I break some cardinal rule by trying to replace her favorite chocolate pretzels with something else?_

"Then you went shopping for all the ingredients, and then some, and came here to surprise me?"

"Well I did sleep for a couple of hours first.  But yes, that was the sequence of events."

Taking his face in her hands, Sara choked on her words, "Gil Grissom, that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me."  She kissed him tenderly.  "Thank you."

Wrapping his arms around her again, he whispered into her hair, "You're welcome."  A few moments later, he began chuckling softly.

"What's so funny?"

"I brought you chocolate and you said it was the 'sweetest' thing anyone's done for you."

"No pun intended."  Rubbing her cheek against his and sniffing his neck, Sara realized she was becoming aroused, both by the physical sensation of being so close to Grissom and the warmth in her heart put there by his efforts this afternoon.  She decided she needed to put some distance between their bodies so that she could gain control of her own.  Stepping back, Sara found she did not want to separate from him completely, so she cupped his cheek once more.

"You shaved recently."

"Just before I left the house."

"Thinking maybe you're going to get some action today?"  Sara winked.

"Well, I knew you wouldn't kiss me for very long with my whiskers 'irritating' your sensitive skin."  His reference to the end of their first date made Sara smirk.  He wore a beard then, and she had cut their first kiss short because his facial hair scratched her.  On his way home, Grissom bought a new razor and shaving cream and came to work baby-faced the next shift.

"And I do appreciate it."  Her grin turned into a full-fledged Sidle Smile upon remembering Grissom the night after their first date.  His newly shaven face had drawn the attention and comments of many people at the lab, who were just beginning to get used to the beard.  Sara stopped dead in her tracks and felt her heart leap into her throat when she saw what he had done.  The significance, unknown to everyone else, had not been lost on Sara.  She knew then, even more so than after their date, that Gil Grissom was turning over a new leaf and turning toward her in the process.

"We going to stand here and gaze into each others' eyes all day, or are we going to make some chocolate sandwiches?"

"Mmm, now there's a quandary.  But I can gaze into your eyes anytime, and that's some primo chocolate you've got there, so let's get to work."  She patted him on the chest as surveyed the ingredients.  "So what do we do first?"

They spent the next several minutes on the business at hand, with Grissom listing for Sara the utensils and equipment they would need.  While they had cooked a few meals together here, he was not overly familiar with where she kept these items.  Watching her stretch for a mixing bowl on a top shelf, he allowed himself a moment to admire Sara's body.  Or at least that was the goal.  Unfortunately, much of it was hidden by the football jersey he loaned her earlier.  She could get lost in it, he thought, but she still looked sexy as hell.  Grissom felt foolishly pleased that she kept it on even after she got home.

"Shirt's a bit big on you."

Glancing down at it, Sara shrugged.  "It's comfortable, though.  I'll get it back to you after I wash it, okay?"  She wasn't yet ready to admit to Grissom that its comfort was not its only appealing quality.  And she had no intention of telling him that she planned on sleeping in it a few times before she returned it.  As she expected, she enjoyed the knowledge that it was _his_ shirt she was wearing.  Though it had certainly been laundered after he last wore it, the scent that was unmistakably Grissom's still lingered.

"Keep it.  It looks better on you than it ever did on me."

"Really?  Thanks."  At his nod, she continued, "So, if you didn't play football, how'd you end up with a jersey?  I thought baseball was your sport."  Immediately recalling the way Grissom responded when Catherine had questioned him on the topic, Sara began to backpedal.  "Oh, sorry, you don't want to talk about it, do you?"

"Not with Chatty Cathy in the locker room."  When Sara snickered at the nickname for their talkative friend, Grissom shot her a warning look and aimed the wooden spoon in his hand at her, "And if that ever gets back to Catherine, I'll know where it came from."

Miming zipping and locking her mouth closed and throwing away the key, Sara replied, "My lips are sealed, on both topics.  Now give – where'd you get the shirt?"

"From my college roommate." 

"And?"

"And what?"

"What's the rest of the story?"

"What makes you think there's any more to it?"

"Because it's no big secret that you went to college and that you probably had a roommate.  What is it you didn't want Catherine to know?"

"It's not really that I didn't want her to know.  I just figured she'd give me a hard time if she found out I roomed with a real football jock throughout my college career."

"Well, I have to admit, it does kind of make for an interesting image.  Like Oscar and Felix in 'The Odd Couple.'"

"That's what everyone thought.  We really didn't get along freshman year."

"So what changed?"

While they worked in synch chopping the chocolate, Grissom told Sara the story of the night he had come home from a study session halfway through second semester only to find Tom teaching a friend basic sign language so they could cheat on a mid-term the next day.

"Gee, a dumb jock – who'd have guessed?"

"Sara, that's a really close-minded and wholly inaccurate view of people who have athletic prowess."

"That's awfully big of you, considering how many of them probably called you a socially awkward geek – and didn't mean it as a compliment, either."  She gave him a wink.

"Not so big, I _was_ a socially awkward geek.  Some might even say I still am."  He returned the wink and raised her a grin.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way, for the record."

Grissom had no idea how to respond to that.  'Thank you' would have sounded incredibly, well, geeky, he feared.

Saving him from the blush she noticed was beginning to tinge his neck, Sara got the conversation back on track.  "So Tom was a cheat.  What happened next?"

"We both knew I should have turned him in – we had signed an honor code prohibiting such behavior.  But I told him I wouldn't say anything if he promised not to go through with it."

"And you believed him?  A cheat?"

"Not entirely.  I may be a geek, but I'm no fool.  So I ended up pulling an all-nighter to tutor him and help him study."

"Aww, that's so sweet, Gris.  Pun intended this time."  With that, she broke a chocolate baton in half, popped a piece in her mouth, and offered the rest to him.  He took hold of her wrist to slowly guide it closer.  When his lips closed over the morsel, they made contact with her fingertips, and he took his time removing them.  Sara once again found herself struggling to maintain her composure as Grissom's ministrations were causing her insides to turn to mush.  Eager to get him talking again before she unceremoniously dragged him into her bedroom, she continued, "Uh, so you guys bonded that night, huh?"

Tempted to lick the chocolate from her fingers but afraid he would not be able to stop there, Grissom forced himself to focus on his story again.  "Pretty much.  Turns out Tom was fluent in ASL – his father and younger sister were deaf."  He poured the cream into a saucepan and began to heat it on the stove, stirring all the while.

"Ah, a commonality, finally."  Grissom had revealed to Sara on their second date why he knew sign language, but it wasn't until their next date that he found the courage to tell her about his own hearing loss.  He was still humbled by the way she rallied behind him and offered her unconditional support.  "Did you tutor him for the next three years?  And what about his buddies, did they get in on the action?"

"Actually, none of his friends, or mine for that matter, knew we'd become friends."

"Why not?"

"In part because we didn't want it known about our parents.  Looking back on it now, I think it was also because we were able to step outside of our well-defined 'roles' with each other.  Tom didn't have to be a jock all the time and I could stop being so serious when I needed to.  The jersey was a kind of gag gift when I graduated – he knew I hated football and would probably never wear it."

"When _you_ graduated?  Did he drop out?"

"No, as a football player, he was encouraged to do the five-year plan."

"'Encouraged to do the five-year plan?'  Are you sure that's not geek-speak for 'He was a dumb jock who couldn't graduate in the standard four years?'"  At his glare, Sara said, "Alright, alright.  I'm sorry.  No more dumb jock comments, I promise."  Nodding at the stove, she said, "Cream's boiling."

They worked together to pour the cream into the bowl of chopped chocolate with a minimum of mess.  Sara then whisked the concoction into a smooth, creamy mixture.  As he was placing it in the refrigerator to chill, Grissom dipped his finger in the bowl.  Blowing on it to ease the sting of the burn, he smeared some on Sara's lips and then proceeded to kiss it off.  He shared the flavor with her when his tongue entered her mouth in the next instant.

Countless passionate minutes later, Sara murmured, "How long does that have to cool?"

"Thirty minutes or so."

"Do you really want to stand in my kitchen making out for the next half hour?"

"Depends.  What are my options?"

After a brief pause, Sara caught his eye and came out with what she'd been thinking about from practically the moment he walked in the door.  "We could take this into the bedroom."

He took a deep breath.  "Sara, there is nothing I would like more right now, believe me.  But I don't think a half hour will be enough time."

"Oh?"

Considering his next words carefully, Grissom spoke slowly, "I intend to be very…thorough."

"Oh."

"And we can't leave the chocolate to cool for too long otherwise it'll be too hard to spread."

Sara felt like banging her head against the wall in frustration.  Instead, she led him to the couch in the living room.  "Tell me more about what you did in college, then."

"What do you want to know?"

"I don't know.  Tell me what kind of things you and Tom did together when you didn't want to be 'so serious.'"

"We didn't really _do_ anything, just kind of hung out."

It wasn't like Grissom to be so vague.  "I think you're hiding something from me.  Come on, Gris, you can tell me.  What did you guys do together that was so out of character for you both?"

"Really, Sara, it was nothing."

"Did he give you football lessons or something?"

"Please.  Football is barbaric; can hardly be called a sport."

"Okay, then."  Narrowing her eyes as if it would help her see into his mind, they suddenly flew wide open when a thought struck her.  "No!"

"What?"

"Gil Grissom, your roommate hooked you up with the hot chicks, didn't he?"

"Don't be absurd."  Grissom could feel his skin redden in embarrassment at the thought.

"Look at your face!  If that's not it, it's pretty dammed close."  Enjoying herself, Sara moved closer to Grissom and whispered in his ear, "You can trust me, you know."

"This has nothing to do with trust."

"So why won't you tell me – wait a minute, you guys didn't, like, _share_ women or anything, did you?"

"Sara, for heaven's sake, you're making this out to be much more…sordid than it was!"

"And my imagination hasn't even kicked in yet, so you may as well just tell me."

Letting out a sigh, Grissom resigned himself to being humiliated in front of the woman he was pretty sure he was falling in love with.  He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes as he began, "Tom was a talented artist – that was something his football buddies never knew about him.  He was particularly good at drawing the human figure, and he used to draw…look, it started out as a joke…but he liked to draw couples…"  He did not know exactly how he should phrase this.

"In _flagrante_ delicto_?" Sara supplied._

He simply nodded before continuing, "And we got into these discussions about…different…um…positions."

"Ew!  He drew porn for you?"  Sara practically shrieked this.

"Keep your voice down!"

Sara couldn't help but laugh at his obvious discomfort.

"Besides, it was no more pornography than the drawings you find in _The Joy of Sex_.  Our conversations were probably no different from the ones women might have on the topic."

"Oh, so now you're going to tell me this was done for educational purposes only?"  Sara figured she was going to Hell for teasing him like this, but it was too much fun.

"I'm not going to tell you _any more about it, as a matter of fact."  Getting up, he returned to the kitchen to check on the bowl of chocolate._

Following him, Sara asked gently, "Are you mad at me?  I was only kidding, you know."  

Refusing to look at her, Grissom responded as he gathered the rest of the ingredients for the recipe, "No, I'm not mad.  Mortified maybe, but not mad."

Approaching him from behind, Sara put her arms around him.  "I wish you wouldn't be.  I'm glad you told me.  I like the thought of college student Grissom, practicing geek and would-be entomologist by day, aspiring connoisseur of the art of lovemaking by night."  

Her tone of voice told Grissom she was serious.  Relaxing again, he tugged her from behind him and handed her bread and a butter knife.  "Start spreading."

Forty-five minutes later they were back on the couch, chocolate sandwiches in hand, feet on the coffee table, and movie running in the VCR.  While Sara had been in the kitchen a few minutes earlier pouring glasses of water and sprinkling coconut on some of the sandwiches – all of which contained nuts already – Grissom made himself at home by perusing Sara's video collection.

She thought she would faint right then and there when she sat down beside him and saw that he'd popped her copy of _The Fly into the machine.  Her shock was such that she promptly dropped the sandwich she was about to sample, and it landed on Grissom's jersey._

"Damn it!"  Jumping up, she excused herself and headed down the hall.  He could hear water running and more cursing as she tried to eliminate the chocolate stain.  A few minutes later, she came back with a tee shirt on.  It was white and had the words "GeeKISSexy" printed in black and red across her breasts.

"Great shirt."  He couldn't help but chuckle as he held up the video box. "And look what I found tucked away in the back of your entertainment center."

"Oh yeah, didn't I tell you I'd gotten it?"  _Please don't ask me when!_

"No."  Though he couldn't pinpoint exactly why, it seemed to Grissom that Sara was suddenly tense.  "Do you mind if we watch it?"

"Not at all.  It's a great movie.  Plus it does hold some sentimental value."  She grinned as she held the plate out to him.  "Sandwich?"

Taking his first experimental bite, Grissom decided that while it was tasty, it was definitely too sweet.

Sara, on the other hand, did not seem to share his concern.  By the time the movie ended, she had polished off half the sandwiches on her own.  Licking her fingers, she sighed as the credits rolled.  "Those really are incredible, Grissom.  Thanks again."  She presented him with a chocolaty kiss.  "I really am touched that you went through so much trouble just to get me some chocolate."  Another kiss, this one longer and deeper.  "And I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me about your college days."  As she moved in to kiss him again, she stopped just millimeters from his mouth.  "But I do have one question, if it's okay."

Desperate to get her lips back to his, he answered quickly, "Anything."

Her smile was slow and seductive as she whispered, "Which was your favorite position?"

He did not know whether to laugh or cry.  "Sara, I am not discussing this with you right now."

Sara locked her eyes with his.  "I don't want you to tell me Grissom, I want you to show me.  Right now."

And so he did.

~*~*~

Grissom glanced over Sara's bare shoulder at the clock on her bedside table and for the first time in a long time, was sorry that he would have to go to work soon.

As he replayed the afternoon and evening's events in his head, he felt a rush of happiness and warmth.  He had finally made love with the woman he had desired for longer than he cared to admit.

And yet he could not help but feel some guilt as well.  While his intentions at first had been purely honorable, he would not deny that he was hoping to…move their relationship further along, and was embarrassed to admit that he was willing to use chocolate to do it.

He was sure Sara must know that chocolate contains phenylethylamine, a naturally-occurring trace chemical in the brain that it is known to release a certain kind of dopamine in the "pleasure-centers" of the brain, as well as endorphins, the body's own endogenous opiates.  While the scientific jury was still out on whether or not chocolate is an aphrodisiac, he knew that its properties could cause a pleasurable response in the body, much like the feeling of being in love.

He also knew – and wondered whether Sara did as well – that higher quality chocolates contain more of these chemicals.  Which was why he found himself shopping at a high-end chocolatiere for his ingredients this morning.

Though some might see his actions as an attempt to manipulate Sara, or at least her endorphins, Grissom chose to think of it as providing her with a chocolate enhanced mood in hopes of…intensifying any erotic feelings that might have built up between them during the course of the afternoon.  Grissom had no proof that the chocolate was responsible for Sara's "exuberance" today; after all, results must be replicable.  But all in all, he was very pleased with himself and the step they had taken in their relationship.

He did feel a twinge of shame at using Sara as an unwitting subject in his little experiment, but grinned as he thought of all the ways he could make it up to her.

Fin


End file.
